Free On His Turf by Jennifer Watts Page B

attention to me. A few of them started being too friendly - bringing me candy and stuffed animals and asking me to sit on their knee. When Matty saw what was happening he did everything he could to take care of me. He climbed through my window almost every night until we graduated and could finally move out on our own.”
    As I speak I watch his hands clench and unclench on the table top like he’s itching to hit something.
    “I guess I owe him a thank you then.”
    “You don’t but I do. That’s the thing about Matty - his home situation was so much worse than mine yet he made it his mission to let me sleep soundly night after night. I often wonder how much sleep he ever got watching the door and worrying about those men,” I say, staring at the table unable to meet his eyes.
    “Your mom should have protected you,” he says vehemently.
    “No argument here. My mother should have done a lot of things…and now she’s my burden to carry,” I say shortly, thinking that this conversation has gotten a little too personal.
    “A mother should never be a burden,” he says.
    “Maybe so, but it is what it is.”
    Our meals arrive and we both dig in, barely coming up for air. When I finish my tacos I lean back and he lets his fork clatter to the plate, signaling that he’s also done.
    “Now that we are stuffed and you know all about me you can fill me in on you,” I ask and he averts his eyes.
    “We can save that for another day.”
    His last words intrigue me because it’s clear that he doesn’t want to talk about his family. One look at him would suggest that he probably grew up with money and was probably the star quarterback or prom king with the cookie-cutter perfect life. But as I’ve learned that’s the problem with judging someone on the spot - you’re almost always wrong.
    “It’s two in the morning and I’m about ready to go. You?” he says, glancing at his watch.
    I look down at my plate and nod, feeling strangely a little deflated that our night is coming to an end. I shake off the thought as I run my hands through my hair and stretch out. When I look at him again he’s watching me with an intensity that I can’t even name and the energy between us is palpable.
    “You are so fucking beautiful,” he says in a strained voice and I suck in a surprised breath. It doesn’t seem to matter what he says to me but it’s the way that he speaks that has me near-panting for him. Ronnie appears with the bill and Shane scoops it up, shoving away the money that I try to put down.
    “You’re not paying.”
    “I am,” I say as I lunge for the bill.
    “As long as I have a set of balls you’re not so get used to it,” he says firmly and I exhale a frustrated breath. I get up and follow him to the car and he helps me in again, lingering even longer this time on my ass. I give him directions to my place and he pulls into the parking lot and switches off the ignition.
    “This is where you live?” he says in disbelief and I immediately go on the defensive.
    “I’m sorry it’s not a loft with a view of Ladybird - forgive me,” I snap back as I unbuckle my belt and jump down from the cab. He runs around the other side and captures me in his arms.
    “I forget what a little kitten you are - you get your back up so easily. I didn’t mean anything by it other than the fact that the parking lot lighting is shit and the tree cover is thick. It just doesn’t seem like a safe place for a girl like you to be walking around,” he explains.
    “A girl like me!” I shove him away and I think I hear him mumble under his breath, “so help me Lord.”
    “A girl like me?” I say again.
    “Yes. A beautiful, young girl who probably weighs about nothing and couldn’t do a damn thing to defend herself against a rapist or a robber,” he says vehemently and I look over his shoulder as a light on the first floor flicks on. He’s yelling loud enough that he’s waking people up and despite what he thinks about my